


It's Easier to Lie

by mistynights



Series: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020 [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fake Marriage, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistynights/pseuds/mistynights
Summary: Hakoda and Bato pretend to be together to piss Pakku off
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851787
Comments: 27
Kudos: 279
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	It's Easier to Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Bakoda Fleet Week day five. For the prompt **fake relationship**. So this fic started because I saw [this post](https://the-moon-to-her-sun.tumblr.com/post/623918354160386048/pakku-visited-the-southern-water-tribe-to-meet) and thought it'd be fun to write something short and funny based on it. And then this turned into a almost 5k words, emotional monstrosity. But like, it got me out of writer's block, so I'm not mad about it. I want to note that I hate the idea of Kanna getting back together with Pakku, but it was a necessary evil for this fic to happen. There's at least not a lot of Pakku here.
> 
> Also I have a couple of notes about engagement necklaces. We know from Katara's reaction that the Southern Tribe doesn't use rock necklaces like the North does. However, we also know that Hakoda must have given that necklace to Kya when they were going to marry, which means the South also must have a tradition surrounding engagements. So, what I've decided is, the people from the Southern Tribe make bone pendants for the person they want to marry. Hakoda gives Kya his mother's necklace because Kanna asks him to, in order to preserve his northern heritage (Kanna is from the north, therefore Hakoda is half Northern). Anyways, enjoy the fic.
> 
> Title from Hurt by MIKA

It starts with a comment, offhand and muttered, never meant to be overheard by anyone else.

“What a disgrace,” Pakku says, nose wrinkling. Hakoda, busy organizing tents for the Northern waterbenders, yet close enough to catch the whisk of his words, turns to look at whatever the old man is looking at. A few paces away from them, two girls, no more than fourteen each, giggle as they separate from a chaste kiss before running towards one of the igloos on the far side of the tribe. Hakoda’s blood boils with an intensity he hasn’t felt in a long time.

***

When Hakoda returned to the South Pole after the war and heard that his mother was now dating a waterbender from the Northern Tribe he felt conflicted. On one hand, one is never too old to cringe at the notion of a parent dating. On the other, his mother looked happy enough talking about her new man—and, spirits, he’s happy for her but that’s just weird to say.

He didn’t meet Pakku then. The waterbenders had returned to the North Pole after the war to solve some problem or another and wouldn’t be back for some months. All Hakoda had known about him for some time came from his mother’s stories and the rumors he caught from the other people who’d met him.

It wasn’t until a month later, when Katara returned for a visit, that Hakoda got to know what the old man was really like. It took all of his self-control not to go to his mother and demand that she break things off with Pakku. Well, all of his self-control and Bato’s reasonable words.

“You’re old, Koda, but your mother is older,” he’d said, a hand on Hakoda’s shoulder to keep him from sprinting into her igloo. “Besides, when have you known Kanna to do anything but what she wants to do?”

So Hakoda didn’t get a great first impression of his new step-father. _This_ —his words, his disgust at the couple of girls—, this has made matters ten times worse. Hakoda’s filled with rage just thinking about it. And an angry Hakoda is a force to be reckoned with.

It starts with a comment, but Hakoda can tell from the way his thoughts spiral towards a plan, that it’ll be much more than just that.

***

Bato blinks when Hakoda thrusts a betrothal necklace at him. The carved bone glimmers with the small fire between them and he can tell by Bato’s frown that he recognizes the necklace. It’s the one Hakoda made, all those years ago, for Kya, before his mother gave him hers instead; the one Bato helped create.

“What?” Bato asks finally, looking up at him, and the confusion and—hurt?—in his eyes almost make Hakoda take it back.

“We’re married now,” he replies, in that tone that Bato often calls his ‘chief’ voice, the one that makes it clear he isn’t asking. Bato’s frown deepens, but he nods nonetheless and puts the necklace on. Hakoda nods as well, and though he feels an odd sense of smugness, he’s smart enough not to show it on his face.

He explains everything a moment later; the girls, Pakku, the comment and the look, the plan that has been forming in his mind since. Bato rolls his eyes when the explanation is over, but nods again, accepting to play the part of husband. Hakoda has a growing suspicion that the eye roll is directed towards him, not the visitors, but that’s alright. All that matters is that he’s accepted and that he’ll be there, by his side, through it all.

***

The Northern Water tribe arrived late, so it was decided that formal introductions would have to wait until the next day. Now, with everyone awake and preparing for the day, Hakoda has the pleasure of presenting the tribe's warriors to the waterbenders. Bato stands by his side, reluctantly, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in a gesture that indicates he's not amused. Next to Pakku, Kanna has her arms crossed too, waiting for it all to be over. She must be wondering why Hakoda would want her at the introductions when she already knows who everyone is.

Hakoda goes through every man, giving names and jobs, quick and methodical. No need to drag this more than necessary.

"And this is Bato," he says, pointing at Bato, who gives a quick nod in response. "He's my right hand. And my husband."

A stunned silence spreads around them and Hakoda has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when all color drains from Pakku's face.

"What?" Pakku's voice cracks the slightest bit and from the corner of his eye, Hakoda can see Bato duck his head slightly to hide a smile of his own.

"My husband," Hakoda repeats. He feels the other men of the tribe staring at him but doesn't turn to check, just keeps looking Pakku dead in the eye. His mother doesn’t even blink, which scares him, but he pushes through. "We got together during the war."

Bato straightens up at that and tugs at the neck of his parka just enough to show the engagement necklace hanging over his chest. The silence stretches a moment longer before his mother steps forward and tugs on his ear, pulling him down so that they are at the same height.

"You should have told me sooner," she says and, after releasing him, starts making her way towards her igloo. When no one makes a move to follow her, she shouts over her shoulder, “come along, then, food’s waiting. And bring your boy; don’t think I’ll let this go just like that.”

***

They sit around the fire in his mother’s rooms, hot bowls of food in each of their laps. Kanna’s eyes linger on Bato’s chest, where the necklace lies under his clothes, for a second before she shakes her head and goes back to talking with Pakku. Bato, who’s been quiet since Hakoda announced their ‘marriage’, looks at him with expectant eyes. Hakoda nods, clears his throat to get his mother’s attention.

“Bato and I are thinking of having a proper ceremony, now that the war is over,” he says, as matter-of-factly as he can manage. Years being the Tribe’s chief are the only thing keeping his voice steady. The shakiness he feels makes him blink in surprise. He shouldn’t be nervous. There’s nothing to _be_ nervous about. Kanna raises an eyebrow but it only takes her a second to nod her acceptance. Pakku, however, can’t keep his stoic façade as he chokes on a spoonful of breakfast.

“Have you thought dates yet?” She asks, pointedly ignoring Pakku’s wide-eyed stare.

“Katara and Sokka will both be here for the summer,” Bato replies, and it warms Hakoda’s heart how he’s so aware of his children’s whereabouts. “We figure it should be enough time for us to prepare everything.”

Kanna nods again, considering. A few seconds pass by in silence, mostly comfortable if one ignores Pakku—and Hakoda is, in fact, actively ignoring him less the old man catches in on the ruse—before she speaks up again.

“The ceremony will be held on the solstice,” she says and leaves no room for arguing.

***

Bato comes into his room that night, closing the door quietly behind him. Hakoda lies on his bed and though he follows Bato’s figure as he walks around the room, he makes no move to stand. Finally, Bato sits on the rug next to the bed, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“What now?” he asks, voice quiet, almost shaking. Hakoda rises then, puts his hand on Bato’s shoulder. He wants to ask, wants to look into Bato’s mind, to understand what goes inside it. But he knows better than to try and pry information out of Bato, knows he’ll open up when he’s ready. They sit in silence for several long minutes before Bato speaks up again. “We go along with it and what? What happens when the summer comes and we get married?”

Hakoda’s hand squeezes Bato’s shoulder almost unconsciously. The words, though whispered, echo around his head with an intensity he can’t bear. It’s a simple question. He wishes he knew how to answer it.

***

“You never told us you were together,” Sokka says when he hears the news. His voice sounds small, like a young child’s almost. He’s been staying in the Fire Nation, working as an ambassador between their peoples. They’ve been apart for so long and Hakoda almost wishes he hadn’t said anything about the marriage. Not now, not when they’re seeing each other again for the first time in months.

“It was all a lot,” Hakoda says finally, looking at his son in the eye and willing him to understand. He could tell the truth, of course, he knows Sokka doesn’t harbor any love for Pakku, but the least people who know, the least chances there are the truth will slip. “With the war and the fighting, it was all very sudden. And then it was over and we had to go back home and rebuild everything. It was never the right time, is all.”

Sokka looks at him with wide eyes and he seems so young, so lost. He looks like he did on the months after Kya’s death, when Hakoda managed to pull himself together enough to remember he still had a family to look after. Hakoda has to remind himself that Sokka is no longer that child, that he’s fought with the Avatar and saved the world, that he’s grown and wise in his own right.

“I suppose,” Sokka says after a silent minute, “that I’m glad it’s him. Bato has always been there for us. For you. I think that he really loves you, I just never paid enough attention to notice before.”

Sokka’s words should be reassuring; he’s accepting this union, giving his blessing—or as close as he can get to it. But they aren’t reassuring. They send a trickle of cold down Hakoda’s spine that he can’t explain.

***

“What now?” Bato asks every other night, whenever his duties free him enough to slip into Hakoda’s room. Hakoda never has an answer and though he often thinks of the burning question, he never gets any closer to solving it.

***

“You’re trying to replace her,” Katara shouts when he tells her during one of her visits. She’s standing by the entrance, face set on a furious expression, hands fisted at her sides.

“Katara,” the young Avatar says, trying to set a hand on her shoulder. She shrugs him off and takes a step forwards and Hakoda swears for a second that she’s going to break something. Maybe even break him.

“No, Aang, you don’t understand,” she says, her eyes still fixed on Hakoda. To him she says, words almost a bite, “I can’t believe you,” and then she’s gone.

“I’m happy for you, sir. And I’m sure she’ll be too, soon enough,” the Avatar says in a rush before leaving after Katara, probably to try and placate her.

Bato, sitting next to Hakoda, places a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m here,” he says and doesn’t need to elaborate. He doesn’t say _we can tell her the truth,_ doesn’t say _she’ll come around,_ doesn’t say _is this really worth it._ No, he just says _I’m here,_ like he’s always been, like Hakoda, selfishly, hopes he’ll always be.

***

Katara comes into the room some hours later and hugs him, cries into his arms, hiccups through her apology. She’s afraid, he can tell that, but she’s willing to give Bato a chance.

“He’s always taken care of us,” she says at one point and Hakoda nods.

“Yes,” he replies, “he has.”

***

Pakku looks about ready to burst every time he sees the two of them, which might be the only highlight to the whole situation. Bato’s taken his role very seriously and, as such, makes sure to kiss Hakoda’s cheek or hold his hand whenever they are near the old man.

Hakoda smiles at him every time and thinks that maybe, maybe, he may not be completely faking that warm feeling that spreads through him whenever he looks at Bato. And, as weeks pass, he notices that Pakku doesn’t have to be near for them to grow affectionate.

***

“You two should be sharing a bed,” his mother says one evening and doesn’t even bat an eye when both Hakoda and Pakku choke on their dinner. Bato keeps his eyes fixed on the fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “You said you’d married already during the war, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Bato says, words slow and careful. “But we thought we’d rather wait until the official ceremony. Everything was so rushed then. We wanted to do it right.”

Kanna looks thoughtful for a second before humming her acceptance. Hakoda doesn’t look at Bato for fear of giving something away. Mentally he thanks the spirits for Bato’s quick thinking and his sensible words.

***

They’re lying side by side on Hakoda’s bed, looking at the ceiling, their hands clasped between them. They used to do this, when they were kids, used to lie for hours at night and whisper secrets in each other’s ears. They don’t talk now, just listen to the night outside, wait for the other to _do_ something. Hakoda turns his face to look at Bato and catches him already staring. Normally, they would avoid long gazes, but neither seems able to look away.

“What now?” Hakoda asks, breaking the silence. Somehow, he isn’t surprised to feel Bato’s lips on his a second after.

***

Things don’t really change, yet everything is different between them. Hakoda feels something charged on his skin whenever he’s close to Bato, something old yet new, confusing like nothing he’s ever experienced.

He doesn’t think he’s felt like this since Kya. Except maybe he has. Maybe he’s felt this way for a long time, whenever his eyes would meet Bato’s. Maybe the war and the grief and the loss made it hard for him to realize what was going on inside himself. What was going on inside of Bato, too.

Because, now that he’s seen it, seen the feelings laid bare on Bato’s face, seen the loving gleam of his eyes, he can’t stop seeing it. Not in the present, when he is witness to those feelings every day, and not in the past, in his memories. He doesn’t think he ever noticed Bato the way he does now, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining the way Bato looks at him in his memories. He thinks he may have been blind to more than just his own feelings.

It raises a question, though, uncomfortable and persistent; a question that rounds his mind like a wolf stalking its prey. And though Hakoda tries not to think of it too much, he knows his curiosity will get the better of him sooner or later.

***

“How long?” He finally asks one morning. He and Bato are fishing; far away enough that he doesn’t fear bearing his heart open for a little while. A fish chooses that moment to pull on Bato’s line, hard enough that they have to join forces to get it out of the water.

Afterwards, when they’ve laid the fish on the snow, and they sit side by side next to it, giddy like little kids, Hakoda asks again. Bato’s eyes go uncharacteristically hard and his gaze gets lost somewhere in the horizon.

“You don’t want to know.”

***

It feels wrong, seeing the necklace against Bato's chest. Not because he regrets it, of course not, but because that necklace had been meant for Kya, long ago. It feels like a betrayal to both of them; reusing such a personal thing like it's nothing.

Bato shrugs his concerns away when he mentions them, as if the whole thing didn't matter. But it does matter. It's one of the most important things Hakoda has ever thought of.

He sets to work, then, tirelessly carving his nights away whenever he isn't curled against Bato's tall body. He's out of practice, his hands unused to such fine work after years of fighting. It takes him so long it's almost summer by the time he has a necklace he deems worthy of Bato. Well, his father did always say better late than never.

***

Bato seems surprised when Hakoda invites him to dine with him. Why he would be, Hakoda doesn't understand, but he is.

They sit next to each other, a small fire burning in front of them. Hakoda spends the better part of the night gathering his nerves to give Bato the new necklace. He wants to do things right, is all, now that things have changed between them.

"I have something for you," he finally says as they are putting their plates away. Bato gives him an incredibly kind smile, mutters a soft _oh?_ , looks at him with expectant eyes. Hakoda bites his lip. He second guesses everything about a dozen times in the few seconds that it takes for him to fish the new necklace out from its hiding spot under his bed covers. His hands shake, and he takes a steadying breath before offering Bato the new necklace.

Bato's eyes widen when he sees the bone carving resting in his palm. He looks conflicted, unsure. It's not a look Hakoda likes seeing on his face.

"Koda?" Bato asks, hands halting halfway through grabbing the necklace. He looks as if he were worried it would disappear if he touched it.

"I want to do this properly," Hakoda explains, moving behind Bato to unclasp the old necklace and replace it with the new one. "I want this to be because we want to, not because we’re trying to piss an old bigoted man off."

Bato's hand clasps around the carving and his head falls forward. His shoulders have the slightest tremor to them and it's only because they've been close for so long that Hakoda knows he's trying to keep his emotions inside.

***

"I have something for you," Bato says, mimicking Hakoda's words from a couple nights ago. They're out fishing again, eyes focused on the task at hand but minds focused on each other. Hakoda doesn't turn to look at him, but his eyebrows rise in a curious gesture. Bato isn't one for surprises, not to give them anyways. He's the kind of man who keeps his intentions clear for all to see. That is, of course, _if_ he wants those intentions to be seen.

Bato inhales sharply, steadying himself for whatever he's got for him. A second passes before he takes out a little cloth package from his pocket.

Hakoda unravels the thread keeping the whole thing wrapped and almost drops it into the icy water when the contents are left on display. Inside the soft cloth lies a betrothal necklace, finely carved like only Bato could ever do, set on a thin leather strip.

"Bato," he says, and there's awe tinting his voice. His eyes are glued to the necklace so he misses whatever reaction Bato may have. Hakoda feels his line tug, a fish having caught the bait, but he can't tear his attention away from the necklace, can't think of anything else but the piece of bone lying in his hand.

"I know you've given me yours already," Bato says, voice soft, almost afraid. "But I carved this long ago and I wanted you to have it."

 _Long ago_ , Hakoda's mind echoes, and he almost asks how much time that means. He doesn't, though, if only because he's still busy processing the meaning of this gift.

***

"I was afraid," Bato says. It's a bit later and they're cuddled up in Hakoda's bed. Under his cheek, Hakoda feels Bato's back reverberate with his words, feels his slow breaths catch at the end. He expects Bato to continue, but silence falls around them like a heavy blanket.

Hakoda lets a minute or two pass like that, surrounded only by their breathings and the rustling of furs above them. He likes these moments of quiet, the two of them together under the warmth of his covers, time trickling away before Bato has to return to his own home to keep appearances. He shifts, lays his chin to rest against Bato's shoulder so he'll be able to see his face when he speaks next.

"Afraid of what?" He asks and Bato shrugs, turns around in Hakoda's arms so they are now face to face.

"You," he replies, voice soft. "Everything, this whole thing. I was so afraid you would think better of it, or would leave, or would find someone better to keep your ruse up."

He pauses for a second, his eyes not quite looking at Hakoda.

"I was afraid you'd find out how much I—" he curls in on himself, as much as he can with Hakoda's arms around him "—I always have. Fuck, even when Kya was around I— I didn't want you to know."

His voice shakes a bit with his words and Hakoda feels his own throat tighten with emotion. He wants to do something, to reassure Bato somehow, but most words fail him. He thinks he'll break down crying if he tries to say too much.

"I think I have, too, for a long time," is all he manages before he has to bury his face against Bato's hair and let the emotion envelope him completely.

Nothing more is said. They remain quiet until Bato has to go. Yet, somehow, Hakoda feels like this is enough. For now, at least.

***

It's stupid, he knows, this relief he feels at having Bato's necklace resting over his heart. It's not like Bato ever left room for any uncertainty about his feelings once they were out in the open. It's not like Hakoda could have ever doubted his words.

And yet, every time he touches the necklace, every time he feels the leather strap slide around his neck, every time he remembers what it means to have it with him, a wave of warmth curls around him.

***

His mother doesn’t say anything about the new necklaces. Hakoda isn’t even sure if she notices them or not, seeing as they are almost always hidden under layers of clothing. She probably does, knowing her, but he can’t be sure. Pakku definitely notices, though, and he looks just about ready to give them a piece of his mind before Kanna puts a hand on his. She does it innocently enough that it can be passed as just an affectionate gesture, but it serves as a reminder that she’s left Pakku once before and will not hesitate to do so again if he gives her son grief.

Hakoda _should not_ feel as smug as he does at the whole exchange.

***

Summer comes and, with it, so do Hakoda's children. They arrive on the Avatar's flying bison and they bring with them their friends. Sokka and Katara are the first to jump off, and they rush towards Hakoda with the force of a snow storm. He takes them in his arms and thanks Bato's presence by his side, steadying him both physically and mentally.

He's so happy to see his children he could cry. Happy, too, that they've both come to witness the ceremony, that they seem to have forgiven him for moving on.

The hug stretches for what seems like hours the three of them wrapped around each other. And yet, it ends all too soon when Katara steps away.

To everyone's surprise, his kids go to Bato next and hug him just as fiercely as they had Hakoda. He watches in awe as Bato accepts the hug and bends over slightly to better accommodate them. Something in his chest tugs and aches. It's a good ache, though, the kind that comes from being so full of love you might burst.

***

On the eve of the solstice—the eve of the ceremony—Hakoda turns in his bed unable to sleep. His stomach twists into painful knots and his mind reels with thoughts, each more gruesome than the previous.

He wishes he could do something to quiet his worries, something to calm himself down but he can't figure anything out. Sleep eludes him. Every time he closes his eyes, images of Kya flash in rapid succession. Not just the happy memories that fill him with guilt about moving on, but also the terrible ones, the ones that leave him panting and on the verge of tears.

He doesn't think he can take losing Bato like he did Kya. Because, back then, when everything had seemed lost, the only thing keeping the darkness at bay had been Bato's soft smile and kind words. Losing Bato would break what little of him has survived the war and the grief.

Not for the first time that night, Hakoda wishes Bato were there. He would know what to do, how to keep him from spiraling further. But the tradition they've been trying to hold dictates that they are to be alone until the time of their union, away from everyone, but specially their intended.

***

He finally breaks around midnight, unable to keep on thinking about Kya and death and loss. He sneaks out, his steps quiet in the snow.

The way from his igloo to Bato's is a familiar one. Even if Bato is the one usually visiting him, Hakoda is sure he would know the way in the dark. Not that he needs to, with the pale summer sun up on the sky at all hours of night.

Bato's sitting on the floor by the fire. His eyes are closed but Hakoda can tell, from the rise and fall of his chest, that he's not asleep.

"You shouldn't be here," Bato whispers when Hakoda closes the door. He doesn't sound reproachful, though, and Hakoda takes that as a good sign. When Hakoda sits next to him, Bato opens his arms, surrounds him in a tight embrace and starts humming an old song. Like this, Hakoda feels safe, ready for anything the world may throw at him.

He isn't sure when he nods off, or when Bato sneaks him back into his igloo. Just that he wakes up in his own bed, his only companion the faint memory of whispered songs and lips against his forehead.

***

There’s a feast after the ceremony. The tribe gathers around a big fire and laughs at old stories and anecdotes, and Hakoda smiles though he isn’t quite listening. Throughout the whole thing, Bato’s hand doesn’t leave his, and the contact makes his mind a little hazy.

His mother pulls him aside when everyone stars dispersing. She hugs him tight and smiles. Her eyes shine with unshed tears.

“You’re happy,” his mother says. “I thank the spirits I got to see you like this again. I feared you never would, after Kya’s death.”

***

"What now?" Hakoda asks, breaking the silence that has settled around them.

They are sitting together on a pile of blankets and furs, just outside of the tribe's wall, waiting for midnight to come. Bato's behind him, his arms laced around his torso, his head bent down so his lips are against the back of Hakoda's neck. Cold air wheezes around them, and it should be uncomfortable, but isn't. Because Bato's right there, so close against his back that there's no space at all left between them.

Hakoda smiles, lets his eyes fall closed. It's been a long day, full of emotions—all good, of course, but emotions nonetheless—and he can't wait to be in his bed, their bed now, together at last. Under his breath, Bato hums a soft, familiar melody, and Hakoda lets the sound drape around him. He thinks he might nod off, lulled to sleep by the warmth and the sound of Bato's voice. There's not one other person in the world who can make him feel like this; safe enough, cared enough, for him to fall asleep out on the snow and not care about the consequences of that decision. He knows, without a doubt, that Bato will care for him, will keep him safe and sound.

"Now we wait," Bato says once the tune he's been humming is over. Hakoda doesn't open his eyes, just lets his fingers find Bato's and laces them together. Bato's lips curve in a smile against his skin. "Now we wait for whatever comes next. Together."

"Together," Hakoda echoes, smiling at the thought.

Silence settles around them again. Bato doesn’t go back to humming, but Hakoda doesn’t miss the sound. His presence is enough. Has always been enough.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://misty--nights.tumblr.com/)


End file.
